Normalcy and Other Small Issues
by Namawibe
Summary: This is not quite a crossover, but lover's of one show or both will see the inspirations. What happens in a world where all of the people left are mutants, accept you? What do you do when the whole world has crumbled and is still at war?
1. Chapter 1

AN: I do not own any of the obvious characters that I will eventually introduce.

She was just a normal woman, crying from the pain and the joy of the life she had just brought into the world. Waiting with breath held firmly in her lungs for the sounds of her child's first breaths. He was just a normal man slightly disgusted and awed by the wriggly mass now held in the doctor's hands. They were ordinary, how were they to know that they would be responsible for the end of mankind as they knew it? How were they supposed to know that their innocent little baby would hold the power to wipe out worlds? Maybe it is a good thing that they did not live to see their baby's first words, first steps, or first kiss, first murder.

19 years later… somewhere outside of what used to be Cincinnati

They always told me that my powers would manifest once I hit puberty. You know I would be able to do something that would make me useful. Instead I see my twentieth birthday approaching and I have seen breast grow and boys stare, but I never gained ability. Which in the end I guess is good, neither side wants me. I cannot be forced into being a human gun, but at the same time I sit outside of the world that I live in forced to accept that I will be forever an outsider. The old folks use to tell me of a time before my birth where is was almost a crime to have a power, to be a mutant. You were hunted and despised, forced to hide who you were and what you could do. I wonder what it must have been like to have been the normal one, to have been in the majority. Instead it is a crime to be me, to be powerless. So for now I walk along this lonely, neglected road, watching the city burn in the distance, because I can neither fly, nor speed, nor teleport, nor know anyone who can I must walk. Not too long ago the gas ran out due to all of the fires in the oil rich lands. I was just facing puberty then. Facing the idea of never gaining a power. Knowing that sooner or later I would be walking down this road, or one just like it.

I have seen many things in my young life. I have seen world's fall, civil war of the gods, and through all I have seen perseverance. Ever since the normal death, the world has been fought over by men who think they are gods, never stopping to remember that all people are gods now, meaning that none are. Well, except for me of course.

"Hey, you! What do you think you are doing? Why are you walking?" Shit, I though no one looked to the roads anymore. Well here goes.

"I just wanted to walk. It is a dying art these days." The look on the man's face was priceless even by my standards. He looked as if the most awesome and stupid revelation had just hit him. If I had to guess correctly, and I haven't been wrong yet, he is a flyer.

"Well you know the rules no one is to be outside of the walls during missions of the X-squad. You are liable to get your head blow up. You better get inside."

"Aww, but I have such a good view of the city burning from here." Bitterly I swallowed everything else I wanted to say. But it would not matter, this man was inconsequential, he would laugh at my comments and probably fly me up high enough that I would not survive the drop.

I walked toward the door he propped with his foot. By the looks of it this little town was a pit stop on the way to the city. As I passed by him the man grabbed my arm, forcing me to face him. Thank god his powers did not manifest in his skin or I would have been fucked.

"Don't cause trouble, or you will get a real good view of the city from where I will drop you." Yep a flyer, am I good or what?

"Don't worry wings, I won't be trouble. I will just stop in for a drink and be on my way when the mission is over. Point a lady in the direction of a good drink?" The guard eased his hold, staring my down like I would burst into flames if he took his eyes off of me. Well, in these days that was actually possible. He jerked his head to the left and released me. Assuming that was my cue I headed left down the little strip of what used to be quaint store fronts.

This town like countless others had been transformed by the years of wars since the normal death. What used to be antique shops and coffee shops were now blacked out, smashed out, or transformed into training arenas, battle grounds, and taverns. It was kind of sad actually. I had read so many books about the world that used to exist, a world that used to fantasize about being special. Guess it just goes to show you should be careful what you wish for.

Ahh, here we are the tavern and the worst part. You know how in ever movie there is always that one part where the hero or heroine walks into the establishment and everyone turns to look. Well I hate that, because it happens in real life, and every time. It is easier to make it through this world if you can go unnoticed. Oh well, here goes.

The first thing that always gets me about these places is the smell; that unwashed smell, of body odor, blood, and alcohol. It is sickening and consistent. This little whole in the wall looked like countless others I have seen. From the looks of it, it used to be a burger joint the faded wall paper peeling in many places, displaying the friendly splatter paint. They even had the same swivel chairs nailed into sets of four around a plastic table, most of the tables missing chunks. Each scratch representing a different battle of wits and powers. Missions days were always busy days for these joints too, every table was full and the few empty chairs were positioned in such a way that one could not go unnoticed in the crowd. Not that it actually mattered since many of the occupants were staring at me anyway.

I felt the familiar tickle of a telepath prying into my brain. I didn't have much for psychic shields, but it was usually enough that the average 'path left me be. This person however was not so easy. I scanned the room, my eyes landing on the one pair of eyes that did not blink and did not leave my face. Gotcha, asshole.

Putting on my best 'come hither' smile I sauntered over to him. "Hi there hun, did you want to know something?" I leaned in real close, smelling his breath as he released his concentration in a puff of sour beer laced breath. "Nope, just checking."

"That's what I thought too. Care to buy a girl a drink?" He grinned a little wolfishly. Poor sucker, surely it would not be this easy.

"Mon chere, you wound me. Of all of the handsome men in this bar you went with this one." Oh, Shit!!

Of all the gin joints in all the world, I had to walk into this one.


	2. Chapter 2

To my credit I did not do all of those cliché things like tense up or stutter or even look at him. Instead I just leaned in closer to the revolting 'path, giving the man a good view of my breast to keep his attention focused on me.

"What can I say; he had my attention from the minute I walked in. Something about having one's mind invaded really makes a girl take notice." I don't understand, the last I had heard he had been out west, hence my general eastern direction. Not that I would ever admit that he was the reason I was headed east. Just goes to show there really is no honor among thieves, unless you are a thief. I wonder what he is doing out here anyway. Most mercenaries these days were hired out to missions. Why was he so special? And why the hell was he here?

"Cherie why don't you let a real man buy you that drink?" Stupid egotistical jack ass, he must not have filled his quota of stupid brawls for the day. It's not like they are in short supply. As if on cue the 'path got defensive, bracing his hands on the table and focusing that foul breathed attention on the intruder. Stupid 'path.

The 'path doubled up in pain. Judging by the amount of pain he seemed to be in, he must have hit the Casanova with everything he had, effectively bashing his weak little mind into a steal wall. I finally turned looking at the last man I wanted to see on this planet or any other for that matter. He just smiled and offered me a drink like he had not just drawn everyone's attention. The air literally crackled with powers being charged up. Idiot. It's not like I feared for his life, I knew he could take care of himself. I, however, still remain powerless.

"Miss me mon chere?" Which translated from egotistical meant 'are you ready for this?'

"No." Short and sweet and to the point was always the best way to get to him. He just smiled knowing that we were going to have to fight our way out of this one way or another. The 'path started to regain control of himself and vengeance was written in all of his body language. His concentration was not focused on me or the idiot behind me, which only meant one thing. He had friends in the bar. So much for that promise not to cause trouble, maybe I would learn to fly after all.

I turned back to the Casanova behind me, "Have I have told you how much I hate you Remy?"

He feigned shock that morphed quickly into the cocky grin I used to melt to. "It might have come up once or twice."

Just over Remy's shoulder I noticed a couple of guys bracing to attack us. Really, could things be any more cliché or redundant? Remy reached slowly into his coat , reaching for what I knew was the family Bo staff conveniently folded in upon itself of easier concealment and travel. One of the guys behind Remy was clearly an elemental, I think the dead giveaway was the fact that his hand was on fire. I swear to god, if there is one, if this guys burns me I am going to kill the cocky Cajun. I had not had a chance to assess the other assailant before the elemental through his first fireball. I ducked, taking the chance to swing into a crouch and knock the 'path down to my level on the ground. On the off chance that he was actually flat out controlling the other two. Behind me I could hear the obvious clang of Remy's staff. The 'path seemed to be down for the count, so much for the control idea. I jumped back up into a more manageable crouch to see that the clang had come from the staff hitting the second guy's metal arms. Well shit that made things more interesting. I can handle burns, sort of; I can't handle having my guts pushed through my spine. The elemental sent another fire ball my way, I jumped out of the way in the general direction of the fire flinger. He charged up another fireball in the same moment that my foot made contact with his face. He went down, and stayed down. I could tell that he was not that hurt, but it seemed that he did not want to fight and only did so to appease the 'path that had called on him. I turned to see how Remy was fairing.

Judging by the flying metal man, he faired just fine. Time to go.

I ran for the door, booking it as fast as I could carrying everything that I owned that is. I ducked into the abandoned store front at the end of the street.

There were not enough cuss words in any language to express how much I hated that fucking Cajun right now. Not only am I trapped inside the town's walls for at least another day, but now the excuse for law will be looking for me. If I have any ounce of luck left for this day, the 'path that I took out will not have been and x-lackey.

I ventured deeper into the store. It was completely bare with blacked out windows and by the looks of the thrashed walls, many a battle had gone down here. Like all of these buildings there was always a stair case leading to a second and sometimes third floor. The closets in those spaces always made good warm hiding places. Sure enough in the back right corner tucked behind what appeared to have once been a dividing wall stood a mangled stair case. Here's to hoping that it would hold my weight. Tentatively I stepped up to the second step, the first one having been completely removed. It creaked but otherwise held. The next five or six steps were all but useless, so I used the times honored and tested method of booking it up the rest of the stair case. Sometimes it pays to smaller, because the stairs held and I was safe on the second floor.

The second floor used to be an apartment for some poor family to live in. It had been picked clean, and the skeleton reminded me of the faces of the normal people they had once pounded into my head as a lesson of what could have been. Irony never escapes me, and that was the moment I knew that this was all wrong. Teaching all of us that normal people would have killed us all had the normal death not been the god given proof that we were meant to live. However, I never saw how that justified killing each other. I say 'us' and 'we' liberally considering I was no longer an 'us' or a 'we.'

In the back of what used to be a child's room was a small closet, just big enough for me to sleep in. Perfect. I quickly opened to door, only to be yanked in before my sense had a chance to adjust to the dark space. I heard the audible click of the door being shut again.

"I knew you couldn't get enough of me, chere." Fuck it all to hell, really! I pushed against the hold that I used to feel so comfortable with.


	3. Chapter 3

"Remy how the fuck did you know where to find me?"

"You forget so soon mon ami, I trained to hide did I not?" The man had a point, he had been the one to teach me when and where to hide in order to save my powerless hide. He had also been the one to teach me how to defend myself.

"What are you doing here?" Seemed like a safe enough question.

"I am hiding same as you Cherie." Smart ass.

"You know what I mean. The last I had heard you were out west."

"So you've been keeping tabs on me, I didn't know you cared so much." One of these days I swear, one of these days I am going to kick that cocky smirk right of his face.

"It's amazing what someone will do to stay away from the man that sold them out. Or have you forgotten that little issue already?" To his credit I felt him flinch. Is it possible that he regrets turning me into a lab rat?

"Aww mon chere that is all water under the bridge now." Oh yeah, that's what he thinks.

"Look here asshole, you turned me over to the x-jerks when I confessed to you that I did not have a power. I only told you because I loved you and I thought I could trust you. Turns out once a Gambit always a Gambit. You have no idea what your money cost me. You got paid so that I could be tortured and manipulated. Do you have any idea what that feels like Cajun? Because I swore that if I ever saw you again I would show you." That felt good, kind of. Like every other problem with my life I hate to remember the bad stuff, which actually tends to be the last two and a half years.

"Aw, chere, I was just a boy."

"You weren't a boy when you were smoozing up to me. You weren't a boy when you took my virginity. You weren't a boy when you got what you wanted. As I recall your pick up line went something like 'why don't you let a real man escort you back to the barracks.' Well congratulations you're a real man now, and if the boy was any indication I should kill you where you stand." He grabbed my arms breathing heavily. Oh right, Remy is also an empathy I must be projecting pretty severely. Perfect. Taking every ounce of betrayal, pain, despair, and anger that I had felt in the last two years I through it all at him knowing that he had been fool enough to drop his walls to connect with me like he used to.

Remy doubled over, releasing his hold on me both physically and mentally. He shook violently, with choked sobs. Stupid empath seems like he lost that lesson on trust, you know that part where you don't do it. If he thinks that he is just going to swing back into my life and sweep me off my feet again, he can go ahead and kiss my ass. Reaching out toward him, I felt for his face, caressing his cheek. I used to love to do this, to feel the stubble of his permanent five o'clock shadow, to watch his demon eyes soften in response to my touch. I let my fingers go up toward his sunglasses, the ones he need in order to protect his sensitive eyes from lights. I grabbed them and threw myself out of the closet.

Sometimes it pays to be observant. For instance, this child's room was the only one without blackened windows and therefore blindingly bright. I was temporarily stunned by the sudden light, but I knew my way back to the stair case. I ran with his glasses firmly clutched in my hand. By the time I hit the stair case my vision had returned, and I jumped down most of the stairs, hearing them crash behind me.

Now where the hell was I supposed to go. I headed down the street hoping for another abandoned building. No such luck, but there was an ally up ahead. Not much of one, but it did have lots of debris I could hide in. I nestled myself in between and old bed spring covered in old cardboard and a pile of trash. Not a pretty sight I realize, but such it my life now.

I tried to regulate my breathing without breathing in too much of the foul garbage fumes. How could he? Don't think about it, just breath. In and out.

Man I am tired…

"_Mon chere, you are soo beautiful." He crooned at me as he moved my hair over my now bare shoulders. His hands shook with their uncertainty as he touched me for the first time…_

"_I love your eyes, Remy." I smiled up at him truly looking into those hypnotizing red and black eyes. The turned a shade darker, almost blood red as he looked at me…_

"_Why don't you let a real man walk you home chere?" I turned away from the idiots harassing me looking for the voice of the newest intruder onto my solitude. He walked out of the shadow of the building tall and commanding. In that moment I knew I would be dreaming about him later. His eyes burned red like the rock he was holding…_

"_Remy, why?" It was all I could choke out as the officers cuffed me. They pulled me away from my white devil. "I love you, I trusted you, why?" I screamed as they started pulling me away from him. The look he gave me was so cold. He felt nothing from me in that instant. "Mon chere I am a Gambit…"_

Fuck, I hate dreaming.


End file.
